Page 41 of Beyond Enemy Vows

She looks up at me, eyes wide. "You had this made? For me?"

I nod. "Only for you. Only for us."

"It's beautiful."

I step behind her, taking the collar from the box.

"I thought about how good you looked with that wrap around your throat," I say, brushing her hair over one shoulder and kissing the back of her neck. "And I knew I needed to give you something real. Something only I could put on you."

The collar opens on a hidden hinge, and I bring it around her throat, the soft interior resting against her skin.

The lock clicks softly into place, and I bring her hair back around her shoulders.

"Perfect. Now, turn around."

She does, and her eyes meet mine as her hand comes up and plays with the lock.

"How does it feel?" I ask.

"Right," she says with a smile. "Because I'm yours and I love the feeling of belonging to you."

Then, without breaking eye contact, she lets the trench coat fall to the floor.

The lingerie is even more stunning than I glimpsed before, her body more delicious than I could ever imagine.

And the way she's standing there, chin slightly raised, now wearing my collar.

Christ.

She bites her lip and tilts her head slightly. "Do you like what you see?"

I reach out and hook my finger through the small loop where the lock dangles. "That's my good girl," I say, voice rough with need, and pull her toward the bed by the collar.

"Let me show you how much I like what I see," I say, and I know I'm about to ruin her in every way she wants to be ruined.

12

CALLI

My back hits the mattress, petals scattering around me.

My fingers instinctively rise to my throat, brushing the lock with my nickname etched into it, like he's been in my thoughts.

The collar is soft against my skin as I swallow, and I find I like its presence more than I realized.

Niko stands at the foot of the bed, eyes on me, watching.

"Take off your shoes," Niko says, reaching for the buttons on his shirt. "Leave everything else."

I kick off my heels, never taking my eyes off him as he slowly begins to unbutton his shirt. One. Button. At. A. Time.

Each flick of his fingers reveals more of the chest I've memorized since Ireland, in fragments through FaceTime calls and pictures, but here, under the soft candlelight, it's unreal.

The fourth button reveals the defined lines of his abdomen, muscles flexing with each breath. His muscles shift and flexas he shrugs off the shirt, and my thighs press together involuntarily.

He's gorgeous.

But more than that, he's looking at me like he's starved and hasn't eaten in the last two weeks.